


An Onderonian Affair

by SennyriNamis23



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8785819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennyriNamis23/pseuds/SennyriNamis23
Summary: After ending the Civil War on Iziz, Queen Talia invites the Exile and gang to a Grand Ball in their honor. While the city prepares for it, shenanigans and feelings happen.





	1. Chapter 1

Sennyri’s whole body clenched, her heart racing, “No, no, that won’t be necessary-”

“But I insist,” Queen Talia replied gently but firmly, “There must be a Grand Ball to thank you for all you have done to help Onderon.”

This wasn’t a battle she could win, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

“I appreciate your gratitude, Your Highness, and I am glad I could help, but really, I should be headed to Dantooine-”

“It will take us some time to gather on Dantooine and come to a decision,” Master Kavar interrupted, “You should have enough time to attend an Onderonian reception.”

Sennyri went to open her mouth again, but Mical stepped up beside her and cut her off, “We would be delighted to attend, Your Highness.”

Talia’s face lit up in excitement, “Wonderful! It will take a few days for us to prepare, but now that the city is no longer engaged in conflict, I am confident we will have a splendid Ball. We will, of course, provide you and the rest of your crew with lodgings while we get things ready.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Sennyri replied quickly, glaring hard at Mical, who shrunk a bit into himself and backed up a couple steps.

Talia nodded and smiled, “I will have one of my men show you to your rooms then, and make sure the rest of your people can make it to Iziz through the blockade.”

Said escort immediately stepped forward and motioned for the Exile and her companions to follow him; Canderous was already on the comm, no doubt working with either Atton or Mira to get the rest of them down to the planet as quickly as they could.

The building, of course, was luxurious and more stately than anything Sennyri had seen in years. It was located near the palace in a neighboring compound, clearly used for distinguished guests of Onderon, and was actually relatively unharmed by Vaklu’s attacks. There were sprawling gardens and large fountains on the grounds - with only a few craters and heaps of debris; the stone was carved around the building into scenes from Onderonian history with everything from beasts and Beast Riders to royal coronations. It seemed to go on forever in either direction, and it was clear that there was easily enough space inside the building for everyone to have their own rooms, except for Visas and Mira, who had asked to bunk together.

The rooms themselves were just as luxurious as the stone-faced building. They were spacious and comfortable with a bigger refresher than Sennyri had seen since her days as a Jedi diplomat, with ample room for a tub, a shower, a large sink, and what looked like some sort of towel warmer. There were oils and soaps and bath salts with names she couldn’t even pronounce, and far too many buttons on the shower to control the pressure and temperature of the water. The unit itself had a living area with a large and comfortable white couch, draped in rich purple blankets and pillows, as well as a bedroom occupied by a large bed that Sennyri fell backward onto in exhaustion. It was particularly soft, but seemed to wrap itself around her to give her the best support possible. The comforter was the same violet as the blankets with a golden floral pattern.

A beep from her commlink distracted her from her investigation of the bedroom.

She sighed and pressed to accept the audio call, “Hello?”

“Hey,” Atton’s voice came distorted from the interference on Dxun, “Canderous says there’s some sort of Ball? Is he just pulling my leg?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Sennyri replied, rubbing her eyes, “Queen Talia insisted on having one in my honor.”

“You big damn hero, you.”

Sennyri chuckled, “I’m starting to get tired of all the accolades.”

“Well, we should be down to you before the end of tomorrow,” Atton said, “Just cleaning up a bit here in the Mandalorian compound and setting things up with the dock officials in Iziz. You going to be okay until we get there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sennyri replied, “I’ll be fine.”

There was a knocking on the doorway, and Sennyri looked over to see Mical standing there, waiting patiently like a lost Akk puppy.

“Atton, I’ve gotta go,” she said, willing herself to sit up.

There was a pause, “Alright. I’ll let you know if we have any difficulties.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she replied, hanging up the call.

Mical took that moment to remove himself from the doorway and take a step into the bedroom, but Sennyri stared him down hard and he retreated. Silently, she stood and walked out to the couch, where she motioned for him to sit beside her. He was spooked and she knew it, but she was annoyed and tired and couldn’t hide it.

“I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Mical started, looking down at his lap.

There was a piping hot kettle of tea on the glass table, and rather than responding to him, Sennyri poured herself a cup and took a sip, letting the warm drink soothe her while she attempted to center herself. It was difficult with Mical there.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“You are?”

She nodded and took another sip, then a deep breath, letting her nerves and her emotions settle.

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them. The normally chatty Mical could sense her irritation, and he’d gone mute. Eventually, however, he found his voice, apologizing in almost a whisper, “I am sorry if I offended you in some way, Sennyri. I admit, I am not always knowledgeable in the ways of politics, and will try to do better in the future.”  
“It is not a matter of politics, Mical,” Sennyri exhaled, pausing before continuing, “You do not get to speak for me. I am my own person and I do not need or wish for someone else to give my own responses.”

“Oh,” he replied, refusing to make eye contact as she put her hand on his shoulder.

“I appreciate your wisdom, Mical. You are an integral member of this crew and I am very glad that you are here. But I need to speak for myself. Do you understand that?”

He nodded, “Yes. The Jedi Order is not structured for individual thought. It is hierarchical, and unless you are at the top tier of that hierarchy, you do not have a voice. I suppose it is only natural to wish to use that voice now that you have it.”

Sennyri took her hand from his shoulder and poured him a cup of tea, “Essentially. And I _am_ in charge, you know. Imagine if Goto or HK thought they should make my decisions for me.”

Mical smiled sheepishly as he took the drink, “Thank you. And I do apologize. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Sennyri replied, taking another sip. Judging by Mical’s face, he didn’t know what to make of the comment, whether she was veiling a threat or only kidding. But Sennyri figured that was probably best. Better to keep him honest.

\---

_“General! We lost another squad! We must retreat, please!”_

_She whipped her head around, her gaze strong and firm, “We can’t retreat, we’ll lose the whole planet if we retreat before more forces arrive!”_

_“We’ll all die if we stay here!”_

_A huge blast shook the command center, and everyone held onto whatever sturdy object they could to keep from falling. Warnings blared from the computer systems around them as the dust settled._

_“Sirs, the shields are down!” A tech called from behind them._

_“General, please,” the Colonel pleaded just loud enough to be heard, looking up at her with fear and despair in his gray eyes, his uniform disheveled, his thin frame trembling, “We cannot hold the base.”_

_After a moment, she sighed, “Okay. Start the evacuation procedures, Colonel.”_

_Just as he jumped into action another blast hit the compound, the ceiling and walls collapsing around them. There were shrieks and cries of pain and fear from techs and commanders alike as huge chunks of rubble fell around them. Everything was thrown into chaos as the Republic soldiers ran for their lives, leaving behind their wounded companions and hurdling the pieces of the building that landed on the floor. One had landed squarely on the head of the Colonel, who groaned loudly for a few minutes, bleeding on the floor from where he’d been struck. She froze, watching as the light died in his eyes and he went silent. Already she could see how many of them had been killed by the last hit in the compound, and through the Force she could feel the deaths of hundreds of others as more squads around the planet were hit with missiles and grenades._

_She had to get out._

_There were so many bodies. So many dead._

_But she had to live. She had to run._

_Just as she hauled herself from the floor, a third missile hit the command base and the whole ceiling collapsed, and it was only a moment before she felt something hit her neck and everything went dark._

_\---_

Sennyri awoke shaken and distraught. She was sweating, the blankets were thrown off the bed, and she was crying again. She sat up and brought her knees to her chin, resting her forehead against them as she tried to drive the images out of her head.

The commlink beeped beside her.

Groaning and throwing her head back against the headboard, she reluctantly picked it up and answered the call. Atton’s staticky image formed before her; he was in the cockpit of the Ebon Hawk, hair and clothes disheveled, his bare feet up on the console.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, Atton?”

“What, I’m not allowed to call when I can tell that you’re upset?”

She frowned, “You’re all the way on Dxun. How in the fuck do you know what I’m feeling?”

“Well, for starters, you just said ‘fuck’, so obviously _something_ is wrong,” he rubbed his eyes and yawned, “But your emotions are particularly loud when you feel them strongly. I figured it must be something pretty terrible if I can feel them from here.”

She sighed and shook her head, “I’m fine. Just a nightmare.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, “You don’t sound fine, Ri. Come on, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, Atton. Just a nightmare.” Maybe she could convince herself it was just a nightmare if she kept saying it.

He clearly did not believe her, but didn’t push any further, “Okay. We’ll be over first thing in the morning. Try and get some rest.” He moved his feet off the console, reaching to disconnect the call.

“Atton-” Sennyri blurted, the desperation in her voice betraying her, “thank you.”

He gave her a crooked smile, “No problem. I-” he stopped himself short before continuing, “I’ll see you soon.”

Sennyri nodded and gave as sincere a smile as she could before disconnecting the call. She put her head back against the headboard again, feeling her breath catching in her throat and the tears in her eyes. Stars, she really was a disaster.


	2. Chapter 2

When Atton awoke again, it was nearly dawn on Dxun. He rubbed the sleep lingering in his eyes and stretched his arms above his head. That damn Jedi was going to kill him one of these days. If she wasn’t running into fights she shouldn’t be, she was waking him up in the middle of the night.

“How’s our fearless leader?” Mira’s voice wafted quietly from the other end of the dormitory.

“Who knows,” he replied, trying to pretend he wasn’t actually concerned for said leader.

“ _You_ , clearly,” Mira replied, rolling out of her bunk and standing in front of Atton in her underwear, but he didn’t really notice.

He frowned, “How on Hoth would I know?”

Visas opened her eyes from her meditation, “We all felt her distress, Atton. And we all know you talked to her last night.”

“Yeah, well, we all know you two are fucking each other, too, and you’ll notice I don’t ask about that,” he scathed, getting up and heading to the refresher.

“That was uncalled for,” Mira replied as he strode out of the dormitory. He didn’t bother to reply.

The truth was, he couldn’t hide the fact that he really cared for the Exile from himself any longer. And, sure, they’d messed around a few times, but neither of them were particularly ready to commit to each other. Not when they were running headlong into death every other day. Mira and Visas might have been able to do that, but not them. And he didn’t need a lecture from Mira about how he needed to express his feelings in a healthier way or some Bantha-shit.

\---

Sennyri had spent the morning in meditation, clearing her mind and enveloping herself in Force. She’d calmed down since she’d hung up with Atton, but she didn’t want to risk a repeat incident during the day. She’d settled on the floor in a patch of sun next to the window in the bedroom, embracing the warmth from it in her robes.

 

> _There is no emotion, there is peace.  
>  _ _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._ _  
>  _ _There is no passion, there is serenity._ _  
>  _ _There is no chaos, there is harmony._   
>  There is no death, there is the Force.

She repeated it aloud quietly for the first hour or so of her meditation until she’d calmed her breathing and her mind. The last two hours she spent focusing on her breathing, the way her exhale hit her upper lip, the way the air filled her lungs, the way her chest rose slightly with every intake.

A knock at her door roused her from her meditations, and she immediately felt a familiar presence nearby. She slowly opened her eyes and unraveled herself from her meditation position, noting the way she put pressure on her legs and feet as she stood, feeling the carpet fibers between her toes. The knocking came again, this time a little louder. She shook her head and walked to the door, making sure to unlock it particularly slowly.

“I know you’re doing that on purpose,” a muffled voice came through the door.

Sennyri smiled to herself and cracked open the door. And there stood Atton, just as she thought, this time fully awake.

"May I help you?” She teased.

In reply, he pushed the door open enough that he could come through, picking up Sennyri in his arms and twirling her around him. She yelped in surprise, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on before he put her back down.

“You have to tell me all about your vacation here on Onderon,” he said as he pulled her forehead in so he could kiss it.

She reached up a little to kiss his cheek, “Oh, it was fine. I single-handedly ended a war.”

He laughed, “You think you’re hot stuff, don’t you?”

She gave him a wink, “How was Dxun the second time around?”

“A lot less fun without you around. A lot more boring, too.”

“Fighting a hoard of Sith in a Sith Lord’s tomb is boring for you now?”

He shrugged and gave her his typical mischievous grin, “They barely even put up a fight.”

She smiled and wrapped him in a hug, whispering after a moment of quiet, “I’m so _proud_ of you, Atton.”

He didn’t reply aloud, but she could feel him blushing and he squeezed her in return. She felt so comfortable, so _safe_ there, in his arms. She’d have given a lot of things to stay there instead of go to this Ball.

\---

They’d eventually moved to the couch and sat together, drinking tea in a comfortable quiet. Atton was still lost in his own thoughts, still thinking about what she’d said: _I’m so proud of you, Atton_. He wasn’t sure anyone had been proud of him before. Sure, he’d gotten commendations from officers, a compliment or two from Revan herself, and he’d certainly proven himself worthy of praise on a few occasions. But pride? Genuine pride? Not “your mother must be so proud you can throw back sixteen shots of juma juice and wake up the next morning” pride? That was a new one.

Sennyri was sitting cross-legged beside him, looking out onto the balcony. She hadn’t put up her hair yet, letting it drape around her shoulders softly. Her eyes were bright and clear, and she wore very few signs of whatever had her so distraught the night before. He knew it still ate at her, even if she wasn’t showing it, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. So they sat in silence together until one of the Queen’s men knocked at the door.

“Apologies for interrupting,” he said, bowing, as Sennyri opened the door, “The midday meal is currently being served if you would like to attend. The rest of your party has been invited, as well.”

“We’ll be there in just a minute, thank you,” she replied politely.

Well, that was the end of their time alone. Sennyri went to braid her hair and put her boots and cloak on. Atton remained on the couch, catching glimpses of her as she walked back and forth, occasionally seeing her face scrunched in concentration as she worked her fingers through her hair. He was still lost in thought when she came out.

“You ready?” she asked, slipping her arms through her cloak.

He nodded and stood, “Yup. Just one last thing.” It only took a couple strides for him to reach her, and he took her in his arms and kissed her squarely on the lips, rubbing her hips gently.  A shiver went down her back as she returned the kiss and ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

He pulled back and grinned, “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She rolled her eyes, “You are absolutely insufferable.”

“I thought I was charming and witty,” he teased.

“Mmmm,” she replied, pretending to be unamused, but she couldn’t hide the smile.

\---

Tales of their escapades were told around the table while the crew of the Ebon Hawk ate. Mira, Atton, Visas, and Bao-Dur shared how they thwarted a Sith ceremony on Dxun while Mical, Canderous, and Sennyri detailed the civil war and how they had killed General Vaklu and his men to save Queen Talia. It was the most relaxed they had been as a group since.. Well, probably ever, Sennyri thought to herself. They were laughing as Atton gave sound effects to Mira’s stories, and again when Mical attempted to do the same when Canderous described the effects of a well-placed grenade, but with far less success.

“It’s really too bad Kreia didn’t want to stick around and ruin this lovely meal,” Atton snarked, slurping up a noodle.

“I’m sure she has some absolutely necessary meditating and meddling to do back on the ship,” Bao-Dur remarked.

Atton feigned shock, “Is that _sarcasm_? I didn’t think Zabraks were capable of that.”

“You clearly haven’t met too many of us,” Bao-Dur replied, and another round of laughter went around the table.

It was wonderful to be with them all, to hear them all laughing and enjoying themselves. Sennyri had often wondered if all of the stress she’d put on them would keep them from relaxing around each other, and she was glad to see them this way.

Atton discreetly reached for her hand under the table, pulling her from her thoughts. They laced their fingers together and gave a gentle squeeze, but didn’t look at each other.

“So this Ball,” Mira said abruptly, “We’re going to need to get outfits for it, right? Are there even shops open where we could get something?”

“I know a few people,” Canderous replied, “I don’t know what shape their places are in, but there have been a few occasions where we Mandalorians have need for a tuxedo or a formal dress.”

“I hope they’re better than that ‘doctor’ you know,” Bao-Dur chided bitterly.

Canderous frowned, “Look, Dhagon Ghent is a terrible doctor, but he’s got connections, alright? So back off before you start a fight you can’t finish, Iridonian.”

“Yes, because ambushing Iridonia is a perfectly honorable way to start a fight.”

A ripple of tension and anger went through the group of them and Sennyri interjected, hoping she could keep the Mandalorian and the Zabrak from coming to blows.

“We should probably go, then. Canderous can direct us.”

\---

They’d split up into two groups: Atton, Mical, Bao-Dur, and Canderous had gone to the tailor on the west side of the Iziz marketplace, and Sennyri, Mira, and Visas had gone to the east side to the seamstress.

Atton had taken it upon himself to keep Bao-Dur and Canderous from each other’s throats, cracking jokes and making wise remarks about really anything other than the Mandalorian Wars. Eventually they’d come to an uneasy unspoken truce, but it was still fairly tense. Maybe he could convince them to go to a bar and lighten up after they’d gotten this tuxedo thing all worked out…

It wasn’t that Atton didn’t like a good opportunity to get free alcohol and mingle with the rich and drunk, but he wasn’t exactly used to being _invited_ to said events. And he had a feeling Sennyri might not appreciate the swindling and pickpocketing he normally engaged in at these events.

“Aye, fellas, look! Ole’ Mandalore has graced us with his presence!” the tailor greeted excitedly, “Since Vaklu bombed the city, we ain’t got much business. What can we do for ya?”

“Tuxedos for the four of us, Taak,” Canderous replied shortly.

The three other men in the shop jumped to their feet with their measuring utensils as if they had been anticipating this moment.

The short rotund man he’d called Taak took it upon himself to take measurements for the Mandalorian, chatting all the while even though Canderous rarely replied with anything other than a grunt, “A little fatter than last time, eh? Dxun’s been feedin’ you nice. Ah, I’m just kidding. So, what’ll it be? Standard black and white for all o’ ya?”

The Mandalorian nodded, “That’s-”

“Now hold on a second,” Atton interrupted, “What are my options? The black and white really clashes with my hair.”

Canderous looked at him incredulously, as if he’d said the single most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard, but Mical and Bao-Dur seemed to agree.

“I might like something in a purple,” Mical chimed in.

“We’ve got all sorts o’ purple!” Taak said delightedly, rushing to the back of the workshop to pull out about two dozen different colored fabrics, “These here are the ones we can have ready for tomorrow, so take your pick, gents.”

Atton immediately found himself drawn to the rich blues and dark grays on the table. It wasn’t often he got to choose what he wanted in a tuxedo, usually opting for the cheaper rental ones that came with mysterious stains and extra bagging in the crotch. Besides, he couldn’t help but want to impress Ri. A nice blue and gray tuxedo would be more memorable than a black and white one. So he chose two fabrics and handed them to the tailor who’d taken his measurements.

“Yeah, if we could do this one,” Atton pointed to the gray one, “on the coat and the blue on the inside, that would be great.”

The tailor nodded silently and immediately started sketching out measurements on his chosen fabrics. When Atton looked back over to the rest of the crew, Mical had picked out a rather magenta shade of purple, Bao-Dur had a black fabric and an olive green shade, and Canderous, cantankerous as always, insisted on black and white. Well, they’d look dashing at the event tomorrow, that was for sure. Taak even seemed to be a reputable and respected tailor.

\---

“You’re Mandalore’s girl?” the seamstress had greeted when the ladies entered her essentially unharmed shop.

“Uh, I guess?” Sennyri replied, unsure as to what she was implying.

She held out a calloused hand, “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Sera, and these are my assistants, Looril and Wrentha.”

“I’m Sennyri Namis,” the Jedi replied, shaking the hand of the elderly seamstress, “and these are my friends, Visas and Mira.”

Sera pulled out a measuring laser and Looril and Wrentha followed suit, immediately going to the women and making notes on datapads about the length of their arms, torsos, legs, etc. After a few minutes, Sera stood back and examined each one of them from a distance, a sketch pad in her hand.

“I know it’s terribly old-fashioned,” the elderly seamstress said, “but the attacks knocked out some of our augmented reality tech. So you’ll just have to use a bit of your imagination.”

While she scribbled on the pad furiously for a few minutes, Sennyri, Mira, and Visas all just shared dubious glances between each other. Looril and Wrentha seemed to know exactly what their boss needed, however, and flittered around the shop, grabbing thread and fabrics, taking a peek at Sera’s pad but asking no questions before rushing off to get something else.

After a few minutes, Sera ushered the three women to her desk, “Before we start anything, I have to know your thoughts on some designs.”

She held up the datapad with a beautifully-rendered sketch of Visas in a draping maroon gown, with lace sleeves and details.

“Mandalore let me know that you don’t ‘see’ things the way we humans do,” Sera commented, reaching for a roll of fabric and pressing it gently into Visas’ hand, “this will be the fabric for the bust, and this,” she reached for the roll of lace and layered it over the maroon fabric, “will be for your sleeves. How does that feel?”

“Will it restrict my breathing?” She asked, running both fabrics through her fingers.

“Not at all. The design is to give you the most amount of movement as possible. It will all drape loosely around your shoulders and waist,” Sera said, demonstrating with the fabric how it would lay on her.

Visas turned to Mira, “how’s the color?”

“It’s perfect,” Mira replied, reaching up to kiss the Miraluka’s cheek.

“So long as you as satisfied, my love, I am, as well.”

Sennyri couldn’t help but smile; they were just so cute.

Sera nodded, “We can make a new headdress for you if you’d like, but I’ve designed the dress to compliment your current one if you would rather not change it.”

“I would prefer to keep this one, if I could,” Visas replied.

“Of course, of course,” Sera said, making a few notes in her datapad before looking up to Mira, “Now for you, I was thinking something a little more extravagant. You’ve got the look of a Mandalorian about you, and, in my experience, they prefer to show off their skin a bit.”

Mira grinned, “What did you have in mind?”

Sera pulled out a dark and sparkling fabric, putting it next to her own design, “I’m thinking something form-fitted, with a plunging neckline, and straps to emphasize your shoulders and upper arms,” She gestured to Mira and then back to the datapad, “then I’ll let it flow out to a train at your hips. We’ll make some long gloves, as well, so you don’t freeze. We’ll keep the fabric solid throughout so as to maximize the attention on you.”

“Sounds like my kind of dress,” Mira replied, touching the fabric and bringing Visas’ hand to it, “What do you think?”

“So long as you are happy with it,” Visas answered.

“Not what I asked,” Mira reprimanded gently.

“That is a fair point,” Visas admitted, “I think it will be lovely on you. This fabric is surprisingly soft.”

Sera smiled, “Yeah, we get that stuff from Yavin IV. You wouldn’t think there’d be a market for soft sparkling fabric out there, but evidently they specialize in the stuff… So, we’re good on number two?”

“Sounds like it,” Mira replied.

Sera nodded, grabbing two other fabrics; a lightweight opaque fabric that went from a deep forest green to a cobalt blue, and a plain black fabric, “For you, my dear, I’m thinking you wouldn’t like something quite so revealing. But your eyes are just begging for some complimentary colors. So, here’s what I’m thinking. We’ll use the black as an underlay, just to keep prying eyes away from your chest. Then, over the top, we’ll use this green-blue ombré and we’ll drape it from your arms, as well,” she pointed to the datapad and then took a bit of the colored fabric and laid it on Sennyri’s arm. “We’ll trim it in silver to match the silver collar that’ll hold up the bulk of the dress, and we’ll be sure to line it. We can accent it with a silver belt, as well. It’ll be a very graceful and regal dress.”

Sennyri took the datapad in her hand and looked at it. Sera certainly had some wonderful visions for them all, but she was all too pleased with her own option. She ran her fingers over both cloths and smiled, “I think it’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

Sera bowed, “Of course. It’s no problem at all. We’ll get started on these right away and we’ll have them delivered to your rooms at the palace.”

The Exile thanked her again and the three women made their way out of the shop and back towards the palace.


	3. Chapter 3

It was getting dark by the time they all were back in their rooms and after a nap (he’d been up since dawn, after all. He deserved a nap), Atton decided he needed a snack.

“There’s gotta be some sort of vending machine in this place,” he muttered to himself as he pulled his shirt back on and left his room barefooted. Might not have been his brightest idea since Ri had a habit of attracting sudden danger, but he decided to risk it; it had been too long since his feet had touched anything other than the metal floor of the Ebon Hawk.

As he rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, Mira flagged him down, “Hey, Atton, I wanna talk to you.”

_ Uh oh _ , he thought, hoping he might have a chance to pretend he didn’t hear her.

No dice, she held out a hand and grabbed him by the sleeve, “Hey. You really have to stop taking out your own frustrations about having feelings for another person on me and Visas.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he retorted.

“Of fucking course you do,” she spat, “Every time Ri comes up in conversation you get all flustered and start throwing around  _ my _ relationship.”

“Do  _ not _ .”

She squeezed his arm hard, “Oh, very mature. Why don’t you just tell her you love her already?”

If he’d had anything in his mouth, he would have promptly spit it out. As it was he just stared at her, fumbling for words, “I do not- I can’t- She wouldn’t- Why would you-  _ No _ .”

“Well that’s convincing,” she teased, releasing his arm, but jabbing him with a finger in the chest, “If you can’t come to terms with your own damn feelings, at least don’t make my relationship suffer for it. I’ve got a rocket launcher with your name on it the next time it happens, got it?”

Atton nodded, “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good,” Mira replied, and as if reading his mind, continued, “there’s a vending machine down the hall. It’s got all sorts of goodies in it. Not just food either.” She gave him a wink and waved a tube of something in her hand and turned the corner back toward her room. Atton wasn’t sure he’d ever understand her.

\---

Sennyri could feel Bao-Dur’s unrest in her meditations. He’d been bitter, angry, and grieving, and she knew she was the only one who could help him settle his thoughts. She’d always felt conflicted about bringing Canderous on board, knowing that Bao-Dur didn’t trust him and hated pretty much any Mandalorian they’d come across. But Canderous had been insistent, and she’d harbored hopes that they could come to some understanding. She wasn’t sure they could even come to a truce at this point.

She knocked at his door, receiving a muffled, “it’s open,” in response. So she gently pushed it so she could stick her head in.

“Bao-Dur?” She asked, “Are you okay?”

He was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his remote.

“I’m fine, General. Come in,” he mumbled without looking up.

She frowned as she crossed the room to join him, “We’ve talked about this, Bao-Dur. Ri or Sennyri is just fine. You don’t have to call me General anymore.”

He shrugged, “Sorry, old habits. I guess Malachor has just been on my mind a lot lately.”

“Is that why you’re so distraught?” She asked, gently placing a hand on his.

Finally looking up at her, he answered, “I suppose it might be. I thought I’d moved past it, but seeing that  _ Mandalorian _ around all the time just reminds me of all the innocent people murdered in that whole war. Not just Iridonia and Malachor, though. Serocco, Onderon, Dagary Minor-”

“Bao-Dur, I was there. I know,” she interrupted gently, squeezing his hand, focusing on anything that wasn’t the memories creeping through her head again.

“Of course, General, or Sennyri. I just can’t get those images out of my head when  _ he’s _ around, gloating about his  _ honor _ and  _ glory _ ,” he practically spat the words out with a venom, “You really should talk to him about the deaths he caused.”

It broke her heart to hear the bitterness in his words, and to feel it in him; all he ever wanted to do was good, to rebuild worlds and to  _ help _ people. And all it took was one sideward glance from Mandalore and he was fighting to keep himself from losing control.

“I’ll talk to him,” she reassured him, “but I’m more concerned about you right now.”

“Me? But I’m just a…”  _ Just a tech.  _ The unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

Sennyri met his gaze and held firmly onto his good hand, “You are much more than that, Bao-Dur. I don’t know what we’d do - what  _ I’d _ do - without you here. You are a dear friend, and I value your friendship more than anything. Okay? If I have to unceremoniously throw Canderous into a ditch to make you feel safe, then I’ll gladly do it.”

He gave a half-hearted laugh, “That won’t be necessary. But thank you. I think I just have to really investigate my own memories and emotions about the war. He is not to blame for that.”

She nodded, “Okay. But let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Of course,  _ General _ ,” he grinned as he emphasized the last word.

If the pang of guilt and regret from the title didn’t hurt so much, Sennyri might have laughed at his insistence on calling her that, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she gave him a half-smile instead.

“Do you want a hug before I go?” She asked.

“I don’t see how it could hurt,” he answered, awkwardly holding out his arms as if he didn’t really know what to do with them. Fortunately, Sennyri had had enough practice by this point that she knew how to slide her arms around him and his vibrating prosthetic arm so that the end result was more-or-less what one would expect in a hug. He clearly had not been hugged enough as a child, and she was determined to make up for lost time whenever he needed someone.

When she stood up to return to her own apartment, he gave her a nod, “Thank you, General.”

“It’s no problem at all, Bao-Dur. Thank you for being here.”

\---

Atton munched on something crispy; he hadn’t really paid attention to the label. Everything in the vending machine was complimentary, so he grabbed one of everything that looked even remotely edible. His arms were loaded with crinkly bags of all sorts of colors and he was happy with his haul. He’d even managed to stuff his pockets with some drinks; most of them were juices of various fruit combinations, but he figured he could find some sort of alcohol to put in them. He’d have to check the room service pamphlet in his room.

As he walked back down the hall, he noticed Sennyri’s door was open just a crack.  _ Why don’t you just tell her you love her already? _ Mira’s voice echoed in his ears and he hit himself upside the head.  _ Stupid _ . Still, though, he had all these snacks, and he was willing to bet she hadn’t eaten anything since he last saw her. He looked up and down the hallway, making sure Mira wasn’t around to berate him or snark at him. Seeing it clear, and hearing no footsteps around the corner, he decided it was safe to knock on her door, pushing it to let himself in.

She was sitting on the floor in front of her bed, a datapad in her hands, lost in thought.

“Hey,” he said with his mouth full.

She looked up quickly, for just a fraction of a second there was fear in her eyes before she recognized him and saw him laden with bags of junk food. Her eyebrow raised, ready to make a smart remark, but she remained unusually quiet as if she was just waiting for him to give an explanation.

He swallowed his mouthful before answering her unspoken question, “The vending machine down the hall has all sorts of snacks in it. I figured I could share if you wanted some.”

She gazed over the bags he had, “What did you get?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he said, dropping the bags in front of her and joining her on the floor, “Let’s see, there are Beast Crackers, Drexl-itos, Gold-gizkas, little chocolate fighters, Corellian potato crisps, and something vaguely cheese? I don’t really know, I was just planning on trying them all and going from there. Oh, and I got drinks, too.” He pulled out the bottles of juice and showed them to her, “I’m not even going to try and pronounce these.”

She picked up one of the bottles and squinted to read the label, “You can’t pronounce Juna berry?”

“Well  _ of course _ I can pronounce Juna berry, but the other ones,” he shrugged, opening the bag of chocolate fighters.

“Oh, so it was Rakmelon that tripped you up?” She teased, slowly getting back to her normal self.

Atton shrugged and threw a chocolate in his mouth, “Kreia always says I’m the fool around here.”

Her brows immediately went into a furrow and she frowned, withdrawing back into herself. There was a darkness in her eyes that Atton hadn’t seen before, but he knew he didn’t like it. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular, swirling in her own thoughts, and he knew a few ways to get her out of it. He decided to play it safe given the reception of his last comment, and he touched her hand gently, trying not to startle her too much.

She still recoiled at his touch, though, which hurt more than he would have liked to admit. But it was some consolation that she got her bearings and immediately slid her fingers between his before putting her head back against the foot of her bed and closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Atton,” she whispered.

He brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face and kissed her forehead gently, “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

She shook her head, “No, not really. Well, maybe. I don’t know…”

She was folding into herself. Not physically, but mentally, spiritually. She was suppressing all of the light in herself, drowning it, trying to hide the Force inside her. Atton could feel it now, the way she was trying to dull all of her emotions, all of herself.

“Hey, hey,” he said, rubbing her hand with his thumb, “What’s wrong? You can trust me, Ri.”

"I  _ do _ trust you,” she replied in barely a whisper, “I trust you with my life all the time.”

He cupped the side of her face with his free hand, turning her gently so he could see her eyes, “Trust me with this, Sennyri. Don’t bury the Force in you so I can’t reach you.”

There were tears welling up in her blue eyes, and after a few seconds, Atton felt her starting to unravel. She turned a bit so she could bury her head in his shoulder and she took her hand out of his to hold onto his shirt as she wept. She didn’t make any loud wails, but she shuddered and sniffled as she cried, letting out every emotion she had tried to keep from him.

Atton wasn’t really sure of what else to do - he wasn’t exactly used to her doing this - so he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back slowly, every once in awhile pressing a gentle kiss in her hair and reassuring her that he wasn’t going anywhere. She was terrified, angry, grief stricken, heartbroken, distressed; and Atton could feel all of it in her. It was rolling off of her in waves, all the pain and anguish.

He just kept holding her.

\---

It felt like her whole life was crashing around her. She couldn’t run or hide from the memories; they just kept tumbling in. Piles and piles and piles of dead bodies, dozens and dozens and dozens of grieving families, shots and shots and  _ shots _ from Republic cruisers destroying planets, destroying ships, destroying people. Every death felt as fresh in her mind as if it had just happened. But she wasn’t in the middle of a battle anymore; she didn’t have the adrenaline running through her veins to get her through it. It didn’t even feel like blood was running through her veins; she was so consumed by it, she felt like guilt was coursing through her now, sustaining her actual existence. She’d helped save the Republic, but at what cost? She had turned into a monster. She had turned her back on the very teachings that gave her a purpose in this life. Everything was terrible and everything  _ hurt _ . 

It was Atton who broke the cycle of her own despair, “Ri? Can you hear me? I really have to use the refresher.” His voice was quiet, even, and only a little panicked. Force, how long had she been crying? How long had she made him sit there while she had cried without explanation?

“Ri,” his voice was a little louder this time.

She took a shaky breath before pushing him a little to detach herself. His shoulder was wet from where she’d put her head, and his shirt was wrinkled from where she’d clutched it. She leaned back against the foot of the bed and he reached over to kiss her before he stood up quickly and stumbled into the refresher.

He came back only a minute or so later, but it was enough time for Sennyri to take a few deep breaths as the lingering images gradually faded.

“I brought you some tissues,” Atton said when he returned, sitting beside her and wrapping his arm behind her.

She offered him a weak smile and took a couple to blow her nose and wipe her eyes, “Thank you.”

He let her clean up her face a bit, making a neat pile of used tissues as she did so. He didn’t push or prod her into an explanation, though she did think he deserved one at some point. They just sat there in relative silence, surrounded by used tissues and half eaten bags of junk food.

“I’m sorry, Atton,” she murmured after a moment.

“Hey, we all got things we have to deal with,” he replied gently.

She shook her head, “I shouldn’t hide it from you.”

“Don’t worry about it. There were things I hid from you, too.”

“But you  _ did _ tell me those things,” she protested weakly.

“You’re very persuasive when you want to be,” he teased and kissed her head gently, “you’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts, trying to put them in some sort of order before she launched right into it. She told him everything from her defiance of the Order to the civilians massacred on Serocco to the destruction of Malachor. Entire worlds destroyed and dead and broken. A number of them by her hand. The rest she could have intervened to stop. But she didn’t. The guilt consumed her.

Most of the time she could bury her memories, lock them away so they didn’t invade her thoughts. But the Civil War on Onderon made it  _ so fucking difficult _ . There were still occasional firefights and brawls in the streets. Sometimes the right noise sent her back into the War. And after she’d talked to Bao-Dur, she’d come back to read a novel to clear her head, but found the Iziz Comm on the front of her datapad, giving recounts of the battles. So much of it was like the Mandalorian Wars. Body counts, casualty lists, property damages all written up like they didn’t matter. Like there weren’t people attached to those numbers. Like they hadn’t had lives and families and aspirations. She’d looked at similar lists throughout the War, reading them with a mild disinterest, only as a formality. She had distanced herself, especially as the War dragged on. She’d made decisions to kill more people in the hope that a planet might be saved, disregarding the actual lives she had sacrificed.

Tears fell again, but she managed to mostly hold herself together as she spoke, taking a tissue from Atton when he offered one. Never once did he interrupt her, and never once did he look away from her. She was grateful for that.

And when she’d finally run out of things to say, she had expected him to make some comment, but all he did was embrace her, holding her in his arms tightly.

\---

Atton wasn’t sure of what to make of her confession. She’d told him secrets and stories of the war before, but never like this. Never sobbing into his arms because it hurt so much to think about. He wasn’t good at dealing with emotions - not genuine ones, anyway. If it hadn’t been Ri he would have found some way to get out of it, to get far away and never talk about it ever again. But it  _ was _ Ri. And he needed to find a way to make the pain stop.

But what do you say when the Exile describes her nightmares and her overwhelming guilt? There’s no witty quip for that.

So he said nothing for a long time. Much longer than he was accustomed to. But he pulled her in as close as he could and tried to make her feel safe.

“You’re not a monster,” he finally said softly.

“Aren’t I?” she protested, “I’m still just as responsible for those deaths now as I was then.  _ I _ made those decisions.  _ I  _ killed those people.”

“There’s a big difference between killing them and not being able to save them, Ri. You can’t save everyone.”

She looked at him then, meeting his gaze firmly with her bloodshot eyes, though her voice came out as a whisper, “Shouldn’t I  _ try _ , though?”

He paused for a moment, thinking of how to phrase his response. “You  _ did _ try. You went to war to save them all. You put aside your books and your studies and your quiet and you took the mantle of warrior to save  _ all _ those people.”

She sniffled as another tear rolled down her cheek. Atton took his thumb and wiped away the tear, holding the side of her face in his palm. She pressed her head against his hand and closed her eyes. When was the last time she’d even got a decent night’s sleep?

“Thank you,” she whispered, pausing before adding, “For everything.”

“I wouldn’t thank me for  _ everything _ ,” he joked, getting a quiet laugh out of her at last.

“Well, thank you for this, at least.”

He kissed her head in response and moved his legs from under him, shifting his weight so his feet wouldn’t get tingly again. Sennyri moved a bit, too, so she had a little more breathing room now that she was feeling a little less terrible.

She put a hand to the bridge of her nose, trying to press away the headache, “Force, what time even is it?”

“Late,” he replied without even looking a clock.

She made a noise in disgust.

Atton made a move to stand, figuring she needed to rest and he should get out of her hair, “I can go.” But the face she gave him was just so sad; her eyes were big with fear lurking behind them and her lips trembled, “Or, I can stay if you want.”

She hesitated, “It’s up to you.”

That was as close to a “please stay” as she was going to get. So Atton nodded and picked up the empty snack bags, “Then I’ll take the couch.”

The way her shoulders and face immediately relaxed sent the butterflies in his stomach up into a storm.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Ships were coming. They had to move fast. The planet died or they all did. _

_ “General?” the Zabrak next to her asked, the question itself unspoken. _

_ All she did was nod. She was beyond exhausted, spending the last three weeks fighting nonstop on the planet’s surface, taking as many Mandalorians down as she could, feeling a sense of strength every time she sliced through another. This was their last stand. If the Mandalorians didn’t die here, they’d come back with a vengeance and destroy more worlds. _

_ There had been a burning under her skin, a sensation she couldn’t identify. When she’d asked Revan about it a week ago, the Jedi had only replied with a smile and a laugh. But she didn’t know what was so funny. _

_ Her skin was burning again, as if something was trying to break through. It hurt but she felt strangely invigorated by it. _

_ As Bao-Dur released the Mass Shadow Generator on Malachor and everything on the planet below died, she realized what the burning was. _

_ Power. _

_ The power to hold life by the throat and decide who lived and who died. The power to destroy planets with a nod. The power to conquer a people no one thought was conquerable. The power burned beneath her skin. _

_ And she was terrified. _

\---

“Easy, Ri, easy.”

_ Atton _ .

She was curled up into herself at the edge of the bed, dry-heaving, shaking, holding her pounding head in her hands.

“Deep breaths,” he soothed, his hand on her back, “You’re okay. It was just a dream, Ri.”

She shook her head.  _ It wasn’t just a dream _ .

He didn’t say anything else, but rubbed her back gently as if he was urging her to breathe to the movement. Eventually she’d gathered herself enough to take some deep breaths and sit back up.

“You okay?” he asked, and even in the dark, Sennyri could see the worry etched in his brows.

She couldn’t lie to him. “No.”

“What can I do?” he asked, crossing his legs on the bed and facing her.

She shook her head again, “I don’t know.”

“Alright,” he replied, clearly expecting that answer as he shifted to sit beside her at the head of the bed, “How about I sit here until you’re okay?”

She tensed a little, “You don’t have to-”

“I  _ want _ to, Sennyri. I’m going to be here if you need anything. Come on, get comfy,” he put his arm around her and she put her hand cautiously against his side. He was warm and he was comfortable and he was  _ safe _ . She felt herself relaxing against him, her heart rate finally slowing back to normal.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she said after a moment of quiet, even though she felt the exhaustion settling back in.

“Nah, I was going to use the refresher anyway.”

“Liar,” she accused playfully, even as she felt the sleep overwhelming her again.

\---

Atton loved her. He was more sure of that than anything now. She was scared and she was guilt-ridden and she, too, was atoning for all the things she’d done. And he loved her. Every inch of her.

\---

For the first time in what seemed like a millennium, Sennyri woke up without feeling her heart racing. She felt remarkably calm despite the headache that wrapped itself around her eyes. Atton slept next to her, snoring softly even as she traced the scars on his chest softly with her hand. For all the grief she had caused him, still here he was. She snuggled back into him.

“Morning,” he rasped, his voice still gruff.

“Morning,” she replied.

He rolled out from under her, propping himself up with his elbow so he could see her in the dim morning light, “Feeling any better?”

She nodded and added, “Thank you.”

“What’re you thanking me for?” he objected, “All I did was sit there.”

“You always seem to be exactly where I need you,” she mumbled sheepishly.

He grinned, “Isn’t that what scoundrels are for? We go looking for trouble. And you’re the worst case of trouble I’ve seen in a long time.”

She went to protest, but a grumbling from his stomach interrupted her. He made a face at it and poked it as if that would help, and she just laughed, sliding gracefully off the bed, “Room service usually leaves some breakfast by the door.”

She opened the curtains as she walked to the door, letting the sunlight pour into the room and hit her face. There was a layer of frost on the balcony, but the sunlight was welcome and warm on her skin. Atton groaned in protest to the light hitting his face, and she smirked. She may not have felt the weight of the galaxy lifted from her shoulders as she might have foolishly hoped, but she certainly felt more like herself after the night before.

Breakfast was served on a silver platter, which Sennyri took back to the bed and placed between the two of them. Sennyri joined him back on the bed, opposite the plate of food with her legs crossed as Atton inspected the pastries and salted meats.

As they ate, she couldn’t help but notice how many times they made silent eye contact and smiled.

\---

The rest of the morning and afternoon they spent together, reading separate books (or comics, but if she had asked, Atton would swear it was a great treatise on flight) or meditating. They could hear the muffled hubbub outside the hotel as the city prepared for the event later that evening, but her room was quiet. Generally Atton liked to lose himself in the noise of bars and cities, but he was becoming rather fond of finding new pieces of himself in the quiet, especially when he was with her.

It was mid-afternoon when one of the Queen’s men knocked on her door to deliver her dress.

“We look forward to seeing you this evening,” he remarked, bowing as he left.

The dress was in an opaque black bag to keep it safe, and she grinned when she noticed him leaning to try and get a better look.

“You’ll see it when I’m in it,” she called as she brought it in the bedroom.

A warmth surged through his body as he realized she was teasing him, but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing how desperate he was to see her in it. He also thought about making some remark about seeing her in other things - her underwear, nothing at all - but decided against it.

Another knock came and Mira’s voice came from the door, “Sennyri, you should come get ready with me and Visas. We’ll get you all dolled up.”

“Oh that sounds delightful,” Atton replied as he opened the door, “You know how much I love wearing makeup.”

“That can be arranged, smartass,” she rebutted somewhat less loudly, looking him up and down suspiciously, “How long have you been here?”

“Why do you care?” He snarked in a forcible whisper.

Sennyri pulled the door open from Atton’s hands, the bag in her hand, “I’m not sure I can rememebr when the last time I got ‘dolled up’ was…”

“Oh, it’ll be so much fun,” Mira replied, dragging Sennyri with her down the hallway. Atton just leaned against his arm on the doorframe, smiling as Sennyri turned back to look at him.

\---

Well, with Sennyri gone from the room, Atton felt a little out of place there, so he took his snacks and made his way back down the hallway to his own room, finding his tuxedo hanging on the door. The girls were getting ready, so he figured he probably could, too. He needed a shower, at any rate.

He struggled for a few minutes with the buttons in the refresher, cursing and wishing he was back on the Ebon Hawk where there was only one lever and there were exactly two water levels: on or off. Eventually he’d figured out how to get the water to a reasonable temperature, but the impossibly tiny bottles of cleansing liquids were still a mystery. So he picked one at random and hoped it was some sort of soap. He wasn’t sure how anyone dealt with fixtures this fancy.

Once he’d cleaned up and dried off, he examined the tuxedo and put it on. He was actually very impressed with the way it fit and looked on him, examining himself in the mirror as he buttoned the cuffs.

“What do you need, Mical?” he grunted as the Disciple entered.

Mical stepped in, fiddling with his tie, “I’m not sure how I fold this,” he replied, “Do you think you could show me?”

Atton shook his head, “You’ve never had to tie a tie before?”

“The Jedi Enclave doesn’t have much need for formalities at this point.”

“Fair enough,” Atton turned and grabbed his own tie off the bed and placed it around his neck before going through the motions slowly as Mical followed along. He fumbled through the maneuvers, getting his magenta tie twisted in ways Atton didn’t realize were possible.

“This really isn’t your strength, is it?” Atton commented, eventually just taking Mical’s tie himself and tying it.

Mical just laughed nervously, “I suppose not. Though I am unsure as to what you would think my strengths actually are.”

“I thought we’d moved past this, Mical.”

“Of course, of course, my apologies,” he conceded sadly, “Well, thank you for the help with the tie. I’ll see you at the event.”

Atton closed his eyes and sighed, “You are particularly loyal and will do anything for the good of the others.”

Mical stopped and turned back around. “What?”

“Oh, don’t make me say it again.”

The historian nodded and gave a smile before heading out again, “Thank you.”

“I better not regret that,” Atton called as Mical shut the door.

\---

“Mical, I don’t need you to tell me what my strengths are,” Atton declared as there came another knock at his door.

“What? I’m not Mical,” Sennyri replied from the hall.

“Shit,” Atton muttered, hurdling the back of the couch as he went stumbling to the door and opened it.  He nearly fell backward when he saw her standing there, cleaned up and wearing a dress.  _ A dress _ . Atton couldn’t even remember the last time he saw her in something other than her green robes. And she was stunning in that dress. It fit her perfectly and flowed around her like that was the place it was meant to be. The silver belt around her waist and halter around her neck shimmered in the light, and her eyes were clear and bright and beautiful. He couldn’t even complain about not being able to touch her skin; she looked so happy and so comfortable. The green and blue of the dress were stunning on her fair complexion, balanced by the rich ebony of the underlay.

“What do you think?” she asked, looking down and smoothing her dress with her hands.

He was speechless. Utterly and completely.

She put a hand on his chest and kissed him gently. “Should we go?” she asked.

There were so many things Atton wanted to do. Absolutely none of them involved going to this Ball. But considering this Ball was the reason she got in the dress in the first place, he figured he ought to pay his respects to it before he got greedy.

He offered his arm to her, but she just raised her eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he joked, “I should be on  _ your _ arm.”

She smiled and shook her head, “Or we could just hold hands.”

“Well alright, I suppose we can be all  _ equitable _ about it,” he consented with a wink as he squeezed her hand in his.


	5. Chapter 5

It seemed anyone still in Iziz had been invited to the Ball; everyone from notable diplomats to Onderonian nobility to merchants to beggars seemed to be there in whatever dress they had. There were folks dressed in rags with dirt and scratches on their faces right alongside others who wore gem-encrusted tiaras and only the most expensive makeup. But there was a feeling of merriment in the room as drinks and food were plenty and a local band was playing some standard favorites. Some folks were in the middle of the dance floor enjoying themselves, others were stalking the waiters, and still others were hanging around the edges of the room and talking.

There wasn’t any sort of formal presentation, but the air of the room definitely changed once the crew of the Ebon Hawk entered it. All eyes were on the heroes of Iziz.

Sennyri clenched. She never did like being the center of attention.

Fortunately the band started up a new song and everyone quickly went back to dancing and eating, only a few people around the room trying to get a better glance at the Exiled Jedi.

Queen Talia immediately came over, clad in beautiful jewels and rich clothing, but clearly wanting to make everyone feel welcome. She bowed to the seven of them before thanking them for coming.

“Iziz will once again prosper because of your actions,” she said, “I cannot thank you enough for all you have done.”

There was a round of mumbled responses from all of them, and Talia just laughed, “Go! Enjoy your evening!”

Canderous didn’t need to be told twice, making a line straight for the buffet tables and bar. Atton, too, clearly wanted to join the Mandalorian but hesitated.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Sennyri reassured him, “Go get some food.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin as he dashed off to join Canderous.

Sennyri just stood near the entrance of the room, taking it all in. There was a chandelier hovering in the middle of the room, glinting as the lights hit it. The walls were covered in beautifully stitched curtains in a myriad of colors. The tables of food were filled with fruits, pastries, meats, cheeses, and anything else that could come in a bite size. The eight-piece band had a few characters in it, including a few Bith but also a few humans and even a Twi’lek. The guests seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, and Sennyri was grateful that Talia invited more than just the Onderonian nobility. No doubt, her graciousness went a long way toward helping her image as sole ruler of the planet.

Bao-Dur was the only one who remained by her side at this point, his hands in his pockets.

“This is nice,” he commented.

“Yeah, Queen Talia did a nice job getting this together,” she replied.

“I meant that it was nice to see you looking relaxed.”

She blushed and fidgeted with her fingers. Bao-Dur was right though, it  _ had _ been a long time since she felt comfortable in a setting like this. She tried not to overthink it too much and ruin it.

\---

Atton waltzed up to the bar and leaned against it, “Two Corellian whiskeys.”

“You drinking for two now, Atton?” Canderous side-eyed him as he nursed his own drink.

“Hey, someone’s gotta loosen up our fearless leader.”

The Mandalorian grumbled and went back to his drink.

“Do you know how to have fun?” Atton asked, sitting beside him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know, fun? Enjoying yourself? Letting loose?”

Canderous paused for a moment, taking another sip, “I did one time knock the teeth out of a guy who said Mandalorians weren’t worth our weight in credits. That was pretty satisfying.”

Atton pursed his lips to keep from laughing, “Boy, you do know how to liven up a party.”

Canderous shrugged and went back to his drink.

There was a hand on Atton’s back and he spun around to see Sennyri there, all smiles. 

“What did you get me?”

“Who says one’s for you?” He teased, handing her one of the glasses.

“You just said one was for her,” Canderous grumbled.

Atton rolled his eyes, “You never miss a joke, do you, Mandalore?”

The Mandalorian took a long sip without even looking up, “Don’t need to make jokes when you conquer the galaxy.”

“Uhh, alright then.”

Sennyri looked between the two of them a little confused. Her eyes sparkled in the light of the room, glinting more green than Atton was used to. He liked it.

She took a sip of the drink, “Corellian whiskey?”

Atton nodded, “Heard from a friend of a friend that you were fond of them.”

Right there in the middle of a Ball, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. He might have been a little worried about other people seeing it if he wasn't so exhilarated by it. She licked her lips when she stood back to face him and Atton knew he was in trouble. This damn Jedi really was going to kill him one of these days.

\---

“Where’d you learn to dance?” Atton asked her when he’d dragged her to the dance floor.

“It was part of our training,” she explained with one hand in his and the other on his shoulder.

“Oh yeah? Do you guys need whirling Jedi now?”

She chuckled as they moved around the room, “Some people do find strength in the Force that way, but no. As diplomats, it’s important that we know the customs of many of the planets both in the Republic and outside of it. So learning to dance to their styles is necessary in keeping peaceable relations with many of them.” Atton spun her around in a circle and she returned gracefully into his arms before continuing, “It’s also helpful when learning how to fight with a lightsaber. We have to move our bodies precisely so we don’t slice our arms off.”

Atton couldn’t help but laugh. Stars, it was so nice to see her enjoying herself. Her whole face lit up when she smiled and she so infrequently got a chance to have a peaceful moment. And it was nice to hold her, even in a dance.

“So where’d you learn?” she asked.

“Oh, you know, it’s where I picked up that Echani training.”

There was disbelief in her eyes as she replied, “Revan taught you how to dance?”

For a moment he thought about lying, making up an elaborate fabrication about how the great Fallen Jedi had personally taken him aside and taught him the two-step and the waltz, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, “Nah, I picked it up here and there. Mostly faked it for a long time. But eventually you go to enough of these things and you figure out they’re mostly the same from place to place.”

“That sounds more like the Atton I know,” she said with a smile. 

At that moment the song ended and the band took a bow as the crowd applauded. Sennyri took his hand and he followed her out of the dance floor and back to the bar where they settled in with a couple more drinks.

\---

Sennyri looked around the ballroom to make sure everyone was enjoying themselves. Canderous had planted himself at the bar, it seemed, nursing a third or fourth drink, but relatively happy to chat up the bartender. Mical was showing off his magenta tuxedo to all sorts of nobility, blushing whenever a noblewoman came close or talked to him or touched his jacket. Bao-Dur had found a buffet table he could make friends with. There was a little human girl with him who was fascinated by his prosthetic arm, and he was patiently answering her questions and letting her poke and prod it. Mira and Visas appeared and disappeared as they pleased, but they were always together, so Sennyri figured she wouldn’t lose them. 

Kreia had been unusually quiet for the past few days, and Sennyri had heard nothing from her in her head or otherwise. Sometimes she really hated that Kreia could get into her thoughts whenever she wanted, although she did at least seem to respect her privacy when it came to personal thoughts. Or, the old woman at least hadn’t commented openly about Sennyri’s growing feelings for their pilot. That was a relief, at least.

Atton sat across from her, trying to look aloof and distracted, but he was failing miserably. Every time she looked in his direction their eyes met, and eventually she just started to make silly faces at him whenever she turned back to him. It was a nervous tick for her to look around the room constantly, surveying her surroundings, and she knew it, but it didn’t make it any easier to stop. Especially as the night had gone on and her energy levels began to wane she slipped back into her old habits. Atton had tried to get her out of it at a couple points, making silly faces or rubbing his feet against hers under the table as any attempt at conversation was swiftly drowned out by the crowd and the band. She shook her head and smiled each time, but after the fourth or fifth time, Atton took her by the hand and led her out to the balcony.

It was freezing outside, but it was quiet. No one else had wanted to venture out there in the cold, it seemed, and while there was still muffled music and noise from inside, it was delightfully still and calm in the night air.

They sat together on one of the stone benches in the garden, their hands intertwined. 

“You doing okay?” he asked, his breath puffing in the cold.

She nodded, “Surprisingly well, considering.” 

“Well, good. I’m glad to hear it,” he said, stumbling a little over his words. He was nervous.

She elbowed him in the side gently, “Are  _ you _ okay?”

“Never been better,” he replied as he leaned back against the back of the bend.

She squeezed his hand, thankful that he was there.

\---

Atton was panicking on the inside. He’d never been this nervous in his whole life, and yet here he was, shaking like a schoolboy with a crush. For the first time in ages, Sennyri was relaxed and  _ happy _ , and he was here wasting that time like a trembling idiot. 

She shifted so she was nestled in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder, and the shivers that coursed through him were strong enough for her to notice.

“Are you cold? We can go back in if you want,” she asked with genuine concern. No one had ever genuinely been concerned about him before her. Not in his life did he expect sincere kindness from anyone, especially a Jedi. But she was showing him, if nothing else, that Jedi were just like everyone else: some were terribly selfish, some were endlessly giving, but most were somewhere in the middle. They were flawed just like every other group of sentient beings.

He shook his head, “I’m good.”

“Okay,” she replied, “Let me know if you want to go back in, though.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mira peering out from a window somewhere inside the ballroom. She grinned mischievously and waved to him. She was endlessly vexing. And then she did the unthinkable. Using a mixture of emphasized lip movements and hand signals, she said in no uncertain terms that he was hopelessly in love with the Jedi beside him.

He stuck his tongue out in reply, hoping desperately that Mira couldn’t tell he was blushing from that far away.

Ri, meanwhile, felt like she was losing energy and quickly. She’d already shut her eyes when she leaned against him (which did mean she didn’t see Mira, thank the Force), and the little puffs of air from her breathing had slowed. Atton pressed a soft kiss into her hair, to which she lifted her head and returned his kiss right on his lips. Her lips were warm and soft, but she kissed him firmly as ever. When their eyes met as she pulled away slowly, Atton’s heart and stomach lurched.

“Sennyri, I-” he began, stopping himself short as his brain caught up to his mouth.

She kissed him again, whispering, “You what?”

He grunted, feeling himself getting worked up and hot from her, “You’re making this  _ very _ difficult.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she scoffed, turning herself so she could hold his face in her cold hands as she kissed him again, “Is this better?”

He moaned in response, “You’re killing me, Ri.”

It was the first time in his life he was trying to express genuine love for another person, and of course, she was being insatiable. Because of course. That’s how she was. Thwarting his plans at every turn. More than once with kisses, even. He really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

A few breathless kisses later, she finally let him get a word in.

“I love you,” he finally blurted barely above a whisper, still trying to catch his breath.

“You  _ what _ ?” she stammered, eyes widening, but her hands were still on his face.

He took them gently and stared right into her eyes, praying for the strength not to get lost in them yet, “I love you, Sennyri.”

She immediately panicked, and Atton felt his heart sink. 

“Oh, shit, you’re being serious. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have done that if I had known,” she babbled.

Well, this was it. He just told her the most profound thing he’d discovered about himself in the past decade and she was sputtering around a rejection. What was he even doing admitting that to her? How unfair was that? She was trying to save the Jedi Order, the Republic, the galaxy, and he was throwing his feelings on her like it was any sort of appropriate. Shit, he really should have thought this through-

She was kissing him again, pulling him from his swirling depression. He wasn’t expecting that. No one had rejected him by kissing him before.

She pulled her lips from his, but pressed their foreheads together gently, still holding his head in her hands.

“I love you, too, Atton,” she uttered.

After a brief moment of disbelief and shock, he felt his entire body relaxing, melting into putty in her hands.

“This was going to be really awkward if you hadn’t said that,” he finally said, and she laughed quietly, her warm breath hitting his face.

She kissed him again, long and slow and soft, without the sort of physical hunger that she had earlier. 

“I love you,” she whispered between kisses.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE SOME FLUFF *throws confetti*  
> I'm also thinking I might just write out my canon run-through of the whole story? That's part of why there's sort of a lot of not directly Atton/Sennyri stuff... So that would be a terrifyingly big undertaking but who knows. I've had fun with these last two, why limit myself?


End file.
